


Beyond 100 Yards

by communikate



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Band Geek!Pidge, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Football Player!Hunk, M/M, Mutual Pining, Underage Drinking, cheerleader!lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 19:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/communikate/pseuds/communikate
Summary: To be perfectly honest, Keith didn’t really understand football. How did people enjoy running at each other with almost no coordination, causing concussions and injuries just to score points, touchdowns or whatever? But there wasn’t anyway that he could say no when Hunk Garrett, his high school’s best defensive lineman, asked him to go to a game.





	1. First Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mikiri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikiri/gifts).



> Hope you all enjoy my first Heith piece!! I love these boys!
> 
> And Miki, this one goes out to you ❤️ So thanks for being the inspiration! I'm sending you much love ❤️

To be perfectly honest, Keith didn’t really understand football. How did people enjoy running at each other with almost no coordination, causing concussions and injuries just to score points, touchdowns or whatever? But there wasn’t anyway that he could say no when Hunk Garrett, his high school’s best defensive lineman, asked him to go to a game.

Hunk had caught Keith after the last block, their shared chemistry class. Keith was picking at his black nail polish with one hand while flipping pages in his book with the other. Dodging students in the hall, he navigated by looking up after reading each sentence.

“Keith,” Hunk’s called, holding onto a single bookbag strap and matching his pace with Keith’s. Keith looked up as Hunk ran a hand through his hair, “I was wondering if you were going to this Friday’s football game?”

Keith shut his book and held it against his chest with both hands, eyes trailing over Hunk while wearing a bashful smile. Hunk wore a yellow shirt under his letterman’s jacket, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. A couple strands of his bangs were pinned back with bright yellow bobby pins. With broad muscled shoulders, he positively towered over Keith.

Keith slouched against the lockers at his back, looking up at Hunk. He shrugged, “Football’s not really my thing.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course,” Hunk blanched, hands floundering and twisting in front of him, “I just wasn’t sure if you were interested or anything. Or if I could look forward to seeing you there. But I totally understand that,” Hunk stuttered a laugh, awkward and nervous, “I wouldn’t want -”

“Hunk!” A familiar voice called and Keith tightened his grip on his book, nails with chipped black nail polish digging into the delicate, well-worn cover of his paperback. Lance Espinosa jogged down the hall, waving a hand to Hunk, “We’re having a joint practice.” He was already dressed in his cheerleading pants and jacket. “Coach’ll kill you if you’re late.”

Lance clapped a hand on Hunk’s broad shoulder and gave Keith a passing glance. “Yeah, of course.” The relief on Hunk’s face was so visible it made Keith’s heart clench and his grip loosen on his book. “Catch you around,” Hunk waved.

Lance jogged a couple steps in front of him, “Hasta la later, Keith!” He bumped shoulders with Hunk and whispered something. Hunk slapped him on the arm with a small laugh.

Keith huffed and flipped open his book, only to smack it closed. He was too irritated to even read. Pulling out his headphones he headed to the senior parking lot to drive home.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


All week, Keith struggled not to think about the game on Friday. Having Hunk speak to him like normal in chemistry class, bashful and considerate and kind as always, only made the thoughts of the game more intrusive. Keith picked off all of his nail polish by Wednesday and repainted his nails Thursday night.

So here he was, standing in the stadium, a stamp of blue ink on the back of his hand. The student section of the stands was overcrowded with screaming students all dressed alike, some with body paint and crazy accessories. They clapped and cheered in unison, and Keith sat down by a group of parents next to the marching band.

“Keith?”

Keith’s head snapped to the band to see Pidge Holt standing in her uniform, clarinet mouthpiece hanging out of her lips. Her uniform hat was on her seat behind her, hair loose and wild around her shoulders.

“What’re you doing here?” Her voice was curious as he scooted slightly closer on the bench to sit next to her.

He picked at his nail polish, “Hunk said something about the game so,” And he just shrugged as a way of finishing his sentence. He looked at the field. Their team was tensed in a line, waiting for the hike of the ball.

“Hunk said something,” Pidge flipped through her flip folder, bringing up the next stand tune, “And you came.” Keith chipped away at his nail polish, avoiding Pidge’s glare. “I’ve been trying to get you to watch my marching band show for three years, Kogane. And Hunk says one little thing about playing football and you come?”

Keith’s gaze snapped to her and her mischievous smile, “That’s not -”

“I wasn’t saying anything.” She smiled before blowing warm air into her instrument. “Except that you’ve got it bad.”

“I can’t have anything. Him and Lance are already a thing so,” Keith grumbled and was all too happy when the drum major ushered the band into the next song. It was the school’s fight song, and from the cheering around him it was obvious that they had just scored a touchdown.

Lance was easy to spot among the cheerleaders, because out of the two guys on the team Lance was denoted as cheer captain with an inverse colored uniform. He started a choreographed chant, eyes searching the crowd. He waved his hands in the air. “Let’s go Lions!” The cheerleaders shouted as a means of inspiring the crowd, before turning back to the football team.

At half time, the football players jogged off the field to the benches. Lance ran up to a player with a large black two on his uniform. The player ripped off his helmet and shook out his sweaty hair. Hunk’s cheeks were colored pink, and he grabbed the water bottle from Lance’s extended hand with a wide, grateful smile. He poured more on his face than he drank. Droplets of water fell from his hair onto his shoulder pads.

“Stop drooling,” Pidge hissed.

Keith bit his lip and picked at his nail polish, ignoring the cheers from the student section and the rumble of the announcer’s voices.

Pidge whispered things in his ear as the rival school’s marching band took the field. She complained about sets and marching style and lines and all other musical terms Keith didn’t understand. He nodded at what she said while tapping his foot to the beat, but his eyes were drawn to a stocky man sitting on the bench, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.

Lance stood at Hunk’s side, talking with animated hands until another member hushed him.

Keith clenched his hands and chewed on his bottom lip, trying to distract himself with how the band members crafted elegant music and the color guard spun bright colored flags. This game couldn’t end soon enough.

He played on his phone more than he watched the second half of the game. Pidge was on break with the rest of the band for the third quarter, eating food from the snackbar and chatting with the other band. Keith propped his feet up on the bench in front of him and scrolled through his phone, looking up occasionally to see the score and to clap with the rest of the audience.

And eventually the game ended, and they were victorious. The team roared and huddled together for a short cheer before having to show sportsmanship by high fiving the other team’s members.

Lance jumped up and led the cheer squad into a final routine of the night. The stands quickly cleared. Keith looked to Pidge, but the band was playing one final song. She winked to him before he waved slightly and marched down the bleachers, hands dug deep into the pockets of his jacket.

“Keith!” A voice called, racing up to the fence that surrounded the football field. It was Lance, wide smile and bright laugh. There were beads of sweat on his forehead despite the cool night air. He grabbed onto the edge of the fence and Keith stopped on the surrounding track. “I can’t believe you came! I owe Rollo five bucks now,” He chuckled.

“Yeah, my plans were canceled, and Hunk took the time to invite me,” Keith shrugged, voice schooled to sound flippant and cool. Because no he hadn’t had plans, but he didn’t want to tell Lance - Lance with the long legs and captivating smile and charming demeanor that was always, always directed at Hunk - that his only other plans were finishing his book or watching that new documentary on Netflix.

Lance snorted, “Invite you? Dude, like half of the school comes to these games.”

Keith watched the exact moment Lance realized his mistake. His jaw dropped slightly, eyes widening and hands waving in front of his face, “I didn’t mean it like -”

“Tell Hunk I said good game.” Keith cut him off, digging his nails into his palms and stalking off into the crowd of people exiting the stadium.

Sighing, Keith entered the parking lot, walking by more school buses than he wanted to count. All of the band kids were hovered around a couple buses, putting away instruments and laughing. Keith shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and continued walking.

He tried to tell himself that he wasn’t sure why he even came, why he had wasted his time with something so trivial. But he knew the reason, and the reason had talked and smiled to Lance all night.


	2. Second Down

“If you don’t ask him, I will,” Lance said around a bite of lukewarm, cafeteria pizza.

Hunk choked on his gulp of lemon-lime gatorade. “You wouldn’t,” He coughed, looking his best friend directly in the eyes. Lance just shrugged, wearing a wolfish grin.

Waving Hunk closer, he whispered while the rest of the table was involved in another conversation, “You’ve been crushing for too long, man. We’re seniors! And football season is almost over. You’re running out of chances.”

Hunk sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. He knew Lance was right. Subconsciously, as if drawn by powers above, his eyes found Keith’s lanky form. He was leaning his head on his open palm, flipping through the pages of a book while munching on a bag of trail mix. His head snapped up at something a friend at his table said, and his smile was wide and transforming.

Normally Keith was stoic, a calm, rooted presence in the whirlwind of classes and college applications and transient people. But when he opened up, when he smiled or talked about something he was passionate about, the world seem to bloom.

“I’ll ask today,” Hunk stated with a firmness he didn’t feel.

“Five bucks he chickens out,” Rollo challenged, holding a hand out for Lance to shake.

Lance’s eyes narrowed, wiping a greasy hand off on a napkin, “Ten he doesn’t.” Hunk wanted to call out, to tell Lance not to waste his money, but they were already shaking hands and Lance wore this look of determination and never-ending support.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Paying attention in chemistry was useless. It was his last block, directly after their lunch and Keith sat three rows ahead of him, book tucked under his desk and glasses perched on his head, pushing back his bangs.

Hunk’s fingers tapped on the edge of his desk or fiddled with his pen or ran through the ends of his hair or played with the cuffs of his jacket. He couldn’t sit still, constantly looking at the clock. Five minutes until the end of the day, and his heart was thundering. He was mumbling encouragements under his breath.

His phone buzzed with a text from Lance.

From: Lancey Lance ✨  
_You got this, buddy!_

The bell buzzed and Hunk was stumbling out of his seat, following Keith down the hallway. “Keith!” And he turned with wide, surprised eyes and Hunk felt the back of his neck prickle with blush.

“I was wondering if you were going to this Friday’s football game?” His words were a stutter, watching Keith casually lean back against the lockers.

“Football’s not really my thing.”

And oh shit. Oh shit, this conversation was going downhill. His hands fluttered in front of his chest, and he felt an ashamed blush cascade over his features. He blabbered something, laughing awkwardly and wishing that aliens would somehow abduct him right now.

“Hunk!” Lance called his name, and Hunk had never felt more relieved or eager for an excuse to leave Keith’s presence. Lance pulled him away from Keith as Hunk tried to hide his grateful smile. As they walked down the hallway, Hunk grabbed at his bookbag straps to keep his hands from trembling noticeably.

Lance bumped their shoulders, attempting to encourage him, “Thanks for winning me ten bucks, buddy.” And Hunk laughed, slapping Lance’s arm, so grateful for his best friend and his constant encouragement.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Avoiding Keith for the rest of the week was rather easy. Lance tried to comfort him, but Hunk could only think about how everything had gone exactly how he’d imagined it. How would he be able to ever talk to Keith again? How should he work on releasing the butterflies from his rib cage and getting over this crush once and for all?

The day of the game arrived and Hunk tried to immerse himself in the hype generated by his teammates. They stormed the field to the tune of the marching band and the cheers from the audience. He smiled and picked up his energy.

During halftime, Lance ran up with a bottle of water, smile large and smug, “Guess who’s at the game!”

Hunk pulled the water bottle from his mouth, water splashing over his face. “What?” His gaze snapped to the audience, looking for the familiar blotch of black among the sea of school colors.

“He’s by the band,” Lance cheered, placing a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “Congrats, dude.”

“But,” Hunk squeezed the water bottle tightly in his hand, feeling the plastic wrap under his grip, “What if he’s just here for the game or something? Like maybe he didn’t come just because I invited him, but because he wanted to see the game. So maybe I shouldn’t hope that -”

Lance slapped both hands down on Hunk’s shoulder pads, cutting him off. “Like Keith would come to a football game for no reason,” Lance scoffed with a small smile on his face. “Have you seen how pale is skin is? He probably never goes outside.”

Hunk simply nodded, but anxiety settled against his ribs as he placed his water bottle back on the bench before running back onto the field. He charged the other team with more energy and vigor, pushing his muscles as a means of focusing on something other than the heat of eyes he could swear were following him.

The stadium was filled with cacophonous noise between the cheers and the blaring of the fight song from the band. After the game ended Hunk was greeted by his teammates slaps on the back, wide smiles, and chants of victory.

Lance bounded up to him, smile slightly forced and eyes not exactly meeting his. “Good game, buddy!” He slapped him on the shoulder pads, before crossing his arms. His movements attempted to hide the slight tremble to his hands and distance in his gaze, not suited for this atmosphere of celebration.

“What happened?” Hunk demanded, knowing his best friend too well to not cut directly to the heart of the issue.

“Nothing _happened_ ,” Lance rolled his eyes and shrugged.

Hunk raised a single eyebrow, “Lance.”

“Fine!” Lance threw his hands up in the air, guilt dusting his features with the furrow of his brow and bite of his lip. “I saw Keith, but he totally ran off right after tried to talk to him.”

Hunk wanted to ask what Lance had said, wanted to ask if Keith was really here and not an apparition of Hunk’s feelings, wanted to ask where Keith went, but all that left his mouth was, “He really came?” His voice was dreamy, a soft breath upon a mirror.

Lance nodded, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Well, what did he say?” Hunk twisted his hands in front of him, ignoring the calls from his teammates as they began leaving the field for the buses parked right outside the stadium.

“Just that his plans were canceled so he decided to come,” Lance mumbled, kicking at the turf with white soled shoes. Hunk didn’t say anything, just crossing his arms and waiting for Lance to continue. He huffed and rolled his eyes, “And I got annoyed that he was so flippant about coming, so I said that like half the school comes to the games.”

Hunk pulled back, brow wrinkling and scowling. Lance had known how much Keith coming to the game had meant to him, known how much anxiety he had battled with to just invite Keith to the game. Would he ever get up the nerve again? Would Keith ever speak to him again after tonight?

Lance threw his hands up in the air. “Look, I know I fucked up.” Hunk chewed on his bottom lip, twisting his hands around each other. “But I know exactly how to fix it.”


	3. Third Chapter

It had been a long weekend, especially after Shiro texted him Saturday morning demanding information on his new crush. Supposedly Pidge had told Matt all about his adventures at the football game Friday night, who in turn had told Shiro. Keith turned off his phone and shoved it under his pillow with a muffled groan.

Friday wasn’t anything special. It wasn’t anything to talk about. Hunk had just been nice when he struck up a conversation with Keith in the hallway. Going to the game had been pointless, only setting loose a storm of flutters in his stomach that swarmed whenever his thoughts turned to Hunk - which he was finding out was surprisingly frequent.

Saturday dragged by, a long expanse of a day where Keith battled with his thoughts and denied his heartbreak. Shiro had finally convinced him to drive the hour trip to his college, promising him a reason to celebrate and forget about anyone who couldn’t see how amazing he was. The college junior had really just dragged him out to a party - where much to his dismay, was only filled with cheap beer, loud music, half-naked and drunk college kids, and beer pong. Keith filled a red solo cup with soda and some rum a girl was pouring from a flask and sat on a depressed couch, sipping quietly and avoiding all thoughts of Friday.

Shiro dragged him from his pity and into a game of beer pong where Keith ended up only missing a single shot.

By the fourth round, there was a small crowd around the table, watching Keith sip at his drink while throwing the ball gently into the cups on the other end of the table. After they won the game and his head was spinning with the lights from the small dance floor, Keith flopped onto a couch and pulled out his phone.

From: Keith  
_Does thee whloe schoool realyy goto the football games?_

From: Pidge  
_It’s 3am Keith_  
_If I normally didn’t have terrible sleeping habits, I’d be pretty upset with you waking me up right now_  
_But, what’s up?_  
_You upset about the game for some reason?_

From: Keith  
_Lancee saidf htat evwryone goes too the gamess_  
Soo why woild hUnk invitee me to goi??’?

From: Pidge  
_Sure like half the school goes to the games, but Hunk doesn’t invite the whole school, Keith. He invited you._

From: Keith  
_Sooo waht does thaat mean?1?_

From: Pidge  
_It means you should get your drunk ass to bed and talk to him on Monday_

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Keith woke the next morning on Shiro’s couch with a headache that pounded with forgotten memories of last night. Matt had made pancakes and Shiro had pushed a smoothie in his direction with a smile that demanded answers and explanation.

“So -”

“I don’t want to talk about Hunk,” Keith cut him off with a large bite of his pancakes, syrup smearing on his chin.

“Hunk?” Shiro raised an eyebrow as he sank into a plush armchair, only a cup of coffee in his hands. Keith closed his eyes and sighed slightly, “Who’s Hunk? Is he the reason why you went to the game on Friday?”

Matt kicked his feet up beside Keith on the couch, leaning over the armrest and pulling apart a plain pancake with his fingers. He popped a piece in his mouth, “You mean Hunk Garrett?”

Shiro’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline in surprise before a small smirk settled on his lips. “Oh Hunk,” Shiro purred, “I totally remember him. Could benchpress the most out of the entire team.”

Keith choked on his pancake, taking huge gulps of his smoothie to wash it down.

“He also almost beat me in the physics robot competition,” Matt grumbled, “Which he shouldn’t even have been in since he was only a sophomore.”

“Still bitter?” Shiro joked, taking a measured sip out of his cup. Matt rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue with half-chewed pancake on it. “Gross, Matthew!” Shiro threw a pillow at him. Matt laughed and caught it easily. “So you and Hunk, huh?”

Keith slammed the smoothie glass back on the table, “There is no us.” He picked at his nailpolish, avoiding Shiro’s eyes. He slowly told the whole story and everything Lance had said. Shiro nodded, listening intently.

“It just seems like a misunderstanding, Keith,” Shiro said, setting his cup of coffee down, “It seemed like he really wanted you to go. Have you texted him since the game?”

“Well, I don’t exactly have his number.” Keith shrugged. His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling it out he saw a text from Pidge.

From: Pidge  
_Matt said you needed this_  
_Hunk Garrett: XXX-XXX-XXXX_

Keith glared at Matt out of the corner of his eyes, but Matt didn’t look up from his phone, attempting to hide his smile. With a huff, Keith shoved his phone back in his pocket. Shiro opened his mouth to speak, but Keith met his eyes. He chewed on his lip, eyes pleading to talk about anything else but this: Hunk and the heartbreak that gnawed on his ribs.

They spent the rest of the day playing video games and distracting Keith.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Monday morning came way too early since Keith had gotten home from Shiro’s apartment at midnight. He was sluggish in classes, wearing his glasses rather than contacts, hair tied back in a messy ponytail at the nape of his neck. His red flannel was tied around his waist, and Keith had picked off the rest of his nail polish by the end of first block as a means to stay awake.

He walked into chemistry with a confidence he didn’t feel, slinking into his chair without gazing around the room. His muscles burned to look and see, to analyze the expression on Hunk’s kind face. But he couldn’t bring himself to do that, just opening his notebook and doodling in the margins.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class and startling Keith out of his half-slumber stupor. He shoved his books into his bag and stood, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses.

“Keith?” Hunk’s voice was familiar, confident when answering questions in class, nervous about risky ideas and fragile lab experiments, comforting and quiet and everything that made him approachable and friendly.

Keith stiffened, grip tightening on his bookbag strap. Turning slowly he saw Hunk, standing in the row behind him. His tanned cheeks were tinted pink and there was a small smile on his face. His t-shirt hugged his muscular arms and accented his hard-earned strength.

“Hi,” Keith mumbled, meeting Hunk’s gaze with a self conscious smile.


	4. Fourth Down

“Lance please explain to me how this is fixing it,” Hunk complained early Saturday morning as Lance perched on the edge of his bed. The football player ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling, hands flopping back onto the bed in exasperation.

“Because, you can just text him saying you missed him at the game on Friday!” Lance explained, flipping through his phone.

“So texting everyone we know to see if they have Keith’s number is the solution to all of this?” Hunk berated, exhaustion and embarrassment making him short tempered and irritable. His muscles burned from the game as he shifted to a seated position.

Lance chewed on his bottom lip as he searched through Facebook. “I don’t want to text everyone, but it’s honestly a struggle to find him on social media. I don’t see why you won’t let me text the band kids for his number. He was sitting by the band, so he has to know someone.”

“Because you know band kids,” Hunk groaned, flopping back on his bed, “They gossip almost as bad as the cheer squad.”

“Excuse -”

“And I don’t need everyone knowing that I was pretty much rejected at the football game, Lance.” Hunk cut off, breaths rapid and voice tight with unshed tears. He squeezed his trembling hands over his eyes, phone forgotten in the sheets. “I knew it would end up like this. I knew it.”

Lance turned around and crawled up the bed so that he was kneeling by Hunk’s face. Slowly, he peeled away his trembling hands. “Hey! He didn’t reject you. He probably left because I made it seem like you weren’t interested, okay? He would be an idiot not to like you! You’re amazing and if he can’t see that, then he’s not worth it,” Lance declared with the same kind of determination and support he always had. He squeezed Hunk’s wrists and smiled weakly, “Do you want to just watch movies or something? We can just forget about all of this for a while?”

“Yeah,” Hunk breathed, biting his bottom lip to stop his trembling chin, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


“Hunk for the last time,” Lance demanded around a mouthful of popcorn, “I’m not watching them in release order.”

“It’s the only way to watch them!” Hunk waved the Star Wars DVDs in front of Lance’s face. Lance just turned his head, plopping around handful of popcorn in his mouth as if that really prevented him from talking.

“George Lucas says to watch them in chronological order,” Lance flicked a handful of popcorn at Hunk, “How could you go against George Lucas!”

Hunk rolled his eyes, “Because George Lucas is so bad at executing his ideas, Lance. I would suggest hatchet order if -”

Lance gasped, hand pressed to his chest, “How could you suggest that we just cut up the movies like that?”

“-You didn’t react like that.” Hunk huffed a laugh. They had this debate every single time they tried to watch the movies. So Hunk just turned to the DVD player and put in the fourth movie much to Lance’s groans. “I’ll never turn to the dark side!” Hunk yelled, turning on the TV, “You’ve failed, your highness!”

“So be it Jedi!” Lance yelled, tackling Hunk to the couch, popcorn forgotten. He laughed, pushing Lance off him. They settled back on the couch to the familiar music and opening credits, the football game completely forgotten.

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


From: Lancey Lance ✨  
 _I can see that you’re still active on steam_  
 _Go to bed_

From: Hunk  
 _I can’t stop thinking about tomorrow, so I’m keeping myself distracted_

From: Lancey Lance ✨  
 _Don’t be nervous!_  
 _Nothing bad’s going to happen tomorrow, buddy_  
 _And playing Minecraft at 1:00am when we have to wake up at 6:30 is not a good idea_

From: Hunk  
 _I know_

From: Lancey Lance ✨  
 _I love you, buddy_  
 _Everything’ll work out_  
 _So go to bed_

From: Hunk  
 _Good night_

From: Lancey Lance ✨  
 _Sweet dreams! <3_

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Lance kept smacking Hunk’s hands away from his mouth. A couple years ago, Lance had helped him kick the habit of biting his nails, but his nerves were getting the best of him. At lunch, his eyes kept wandering to Keith’s table. Watched him lean back, feet kicked up on an empty chair, flipping through his book and munching on a sandwich with one hand.

“Go talk to him,” Lance hissed, shoulder Hunk.

“No way,” Hunk drawled, yanking his gaze from the cute ponytail and glasses Keith was sporting today. “I don’t want to be rejected in front of the whole cafeteria.”

“Hunk,” Lance started, tone firm and ready to support and boost his confidence.

Hunk shook his head, settling it into his hands. “Please, Lance. Not right now.” He focused on his breathing and the rapidness of his heartbeat. He didn’t know how to talk to Keith in the back of the classroom, much less the middle of the cafeteria. And no matter what Lance had said, Hunk knew, could feel it settle into the marrow of his bones, that Keith didn’t like him - at least not in the fluttering way Hunk felt.

He tapped his fingers on his desk all throughout chemistry, eyes darting between the teacher and Keith. Keith slumped in his chair, head rested in his hand, shoulders rising and falling softly as if in sleep.

Hunk was too jittery to even think about sleeping. His knees jumped with the tapping of his heels. The person next to him, pulled their desks apart by an inch so Hunk would stop shaking both of their desks together. He watched the clock and swallowed his nerves.

From: Lancey Lance ✨  
 _Please talk to him, Hunk_  
 _I promise everything’ll work out_  
 _And if it doesn’t, I have ice cream and all the Transformers movies_

From: Hunk  
 _You know those movies are horrible, right?_

From: Lancey Lance ✨  
 _That’s what makes them fabulous_

Hunk couldn’t help himself. He laughed, a small chuckle hidden under a cough that followed. The teacher’s eyes darted to him, but he was already looking back at his slapdash notes - because it wasn't like he could really focus with Keith only a couple feet from him.

The bell rang and Hunk was standing, bookbag slung over his shoulder. He walked casually up to Keith’s desk, feeling his name catch in his throat a couple times before Keith stood up and began walking. Fear spurred him to finally speak.

“Keith?” His voice was more of a croak, making Keith stiffen before slowly turning around.

There was a slight blush high on his cheekbones as he grimaced through a smile, “Hi.”

Hunk scratched at the back of his head, looking away from Keith and the way his glasses framed his face and highlighted his stormy eyes. “So, I saw you at the game on Friday,” Hunk stumbled through the words, trying to sound confident and like he hadn’t fretted all weekend over Keith’s appearance and disappearance. “I thought football wasn’t your thing.”

“Yeah,” Keith drawled, scratching his calf with his shoe, “My plans were canceled so I decided to go. Especially since you -” But Keith cut himself off, biting his lip and looking down at the ground.

“Since I invited you?” Hunk finished, slightly amused by how flustered Keith was.

Keith’s head snapped up, a flare of indignation in his eyes. “Well, it’s not like inviting me had any sort of meaning, since the whole school goes right?” Keith snarled, stomping his foot to the ground.

Hunk pulled back a little shocked at the outburst in the already empty classroom. Keith took a step back, blush claiming his features. His lips parted as if he was going to say something else, but he only took another step back. Hunk reached a hand out, “Keith -”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that.” Keith’s eyes were wide, jumping out of Hunk’s reach. “I’ve got to go.” He turned and walked briskly to the door.

“I wanted you to come!” Hunk called out, bumping into desks in a hurry to stop the other boy. Keith stopped in the threshold to the door. Hunk pushed a desk out of the way with a loud squeal as its metal feet skidded against the tile.

When he stood close enough to reach out and touch Keith, Hunk whispered, “I wanted you to come that’s why I invited you.”

Keith looked up and met his eyes. His brow was furrowed, one hand picking at nonexistent nail polish on his fingers. “Why?” His voice was tentative, almost swallowed by the sounds of students in the hallway.

“Because,” Hunk began, stuttering and swallowing his nervousness. Butterflies beat against his ribs and his heart pounded in his ears. He took a deep breath and just spit out the words, forced them from his mouth like an inhalation after almost drowning, “I like you.” His smile was small, “And I wanted to impress you or something. I don’t know. But I understand if you don’t like me that way, so if you want -”

“You like me?” Keith laughed, a small smile blooming on his face.

Hunk’s blood chilled, ice forming in his capillaries. Were his feelings just a joke to Keith? This wasn’t a situation he had imagined, not something he thought Keith capable of. He took a small step back, ready to run, ready to fight the rising panic and fear and humiliation that clawed up this throat.

Keith grabbed the front of Hunk’s shirt and pulled him down into a kiss. His lips were soft against Hunk’s, tasting of cinnamon chapstick and moving gently, lulling him into a passionate kiss. Hunk’s hands rested on Keith’s arms, sliding down to his hips and gripping them tightly, so tightly like he was afraid of Keith slipping away as he had into the crowd at the game.

He broke the kiss, looking up at Hunk with wide eyes and pink cheeks. Keith’s lips were glossy, and he sucked one between his teeth as he fought a smile. “You like me?”

“All the way down to your chipped black nail polish,” Hunk chuckled, pulling Keith against him so that he could rest his forehead against Keith’s.

“I like you,” Keith breathed, grip tightening in Hunk’s shirt. “All the way down to your athlete’s foot.”

Hunk pulled back, aghast, “I don’t -”

But Keith’s laugh cut him off. It was loud like church bells ringing, vibrating through the town and waking all. Hunk felt his cheeks flush as he scratched the back of his head. Keith grabbed Hunk’s hand and intertwined their fingers. Hunk leaned down to kiss Keith again, still amazed that this was something he could do. Everything felt almost hazy under the frantic beating of his heart and the blush singeing his cheeks; a fevered dream.

Their lips brushed, “Hey! No canoodling at school, young men!” Their chemistry teacher reprimanded, walking back into the classroom.

Hunk pulled back, hiding their clasped hands behind his back. “Of course not, Mrs. Beezer.”

“Yeah, we’ll take this off campus,” Keith drawled, winking and Hunk and pulling him from the room, startling a small laugh from his lips.


	5. Touch Down

And somehow everything became so natural after that. They exchanged numbers, and Hunk invited him and Pidge to come sit at their table during lunch. Keith thought he heard Lance mumble something about “a band member knowing Keith’s number,” but he just shrugged it off.

Hunk plucked Keith’s sandwich from his hand, the haphazard peanut butter and jelly he had made this morning. He honestly wasn’t sure how Pidge and Lance ate the cafeteria food without vomiting.

“This honestly looks terrible,” He commented, peeling apart the pieces of bread to see how eviscerated the bread was from Keith’s poor peanut butter application.

“At least it’s better than the cafeteria food,” Keith mumbled, feeling a slight blush creep up this neck.

Hunk handed him back the sandwich with a small, indulgent shake of his head, “You should let me make you lunch for tomorrow.”

Heat engulfed Keith’s face as he thought about Hunk, the well muscled football player who had just became his boyfriend two days ago, bringing him a homemade lunch. He nodded slightly at first and then more vigorously. He looked down at the table, trying to hide his blush and embarrassed smile behind his bangs.

“I would like that.”

There was a moment of silence as Hunk caught Keith’s gaze, and they seemed lost to each other for a moment.

Lance broke the silence with a simple question, “So Keith, in what order do you watch Star Wars?” His smile was smug as he looked at Hunk, as if preparing to be proved right about something.

Keith furrowed his brow, “I’ve actually never watched Star Wars.”

Even Pidge choked on her food. And there were a flurry of comments from both Lance and Pidge.

“Hunk, dump him right now. He’s never seen Star Wars!”

“How have we been friends for five years and you’ve never brought this up, Keith?”

“He doesn’t deserve someone as cultured as you for a boyfriend!”

“Do Matt and Shiro know? How could they not make you watch it??” Pidge whipped out her phone before Keith could say anything else, definitely texting Matt.

Keith sighed and crossed his arms. “If John Williams hasn’t even seen the movies, why should I?” Keith had shrugged, munching on his sandwich during lunch. Lance’s mouth had dropped open and Hunk choked on his food. Pidge just shook her head, hiding a mischievous smile behind a soggy, cafeteria burger.

Hunk leaned down to whisper by Keith’s ear, “We could watch it together this weekend.”

“Friday night?”

“I have a game,” Hunk admitted, pulling back and speaking at a normal volume. Keith smiled sweetly before leaning forward and grabbing Hunk’s hand.

“Then Saturday night we can just stay in and watch the movies?” Keith suggested, “Especially since we’ll both be exhausted from the game.”

Hunk pulled back, confusion furrowing his brow and squinting his eyes, “We?”

“Of course, I’m going,” Keith laughed, before taking a bite of his sandwich. Hunk smiled so brightly it ignited Keith’s cheeks. Pidge scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Gross.”

Lance elbowed her, “Tell me about it.”

  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  


Keith still hadn’t gotten used to cheering. How the audience would stomp in the stands and holler, hands cupped against their mouths. How the band blared music at the different downs or was it quarters or both?

Most of all, he still hadn’t learned all the rules. Pidge kept leaning over to whisper things to him, because no matter how many times he read some online articles, he didn’t understand the rules.

But there was a point in the game when another team member grabbed Hunk’s face mask and yanked him to the side. Keith jumped to his feet, screaming and pointing at the field, “He can’t just do that! That’s got to be a foul or a penalty or something!” He looked at Pidge, before pointing at the field again. “He can’t just throw my boyfriend around like that!”

“They’ve already throw a yellow flag, Keith.” Pidge tugged at his sleeve, finally causing him to draw attention to the curious gazes of audience members.

“Oh,” he mumbled, sitting back down and picking at his nail polish while trying to hide his blush under his bangs.

The woman next to him leaned over, “Which one is your boyfriend?”

“Number 2,” Keith smiled wide as he bragged about Hunk, watching the referee give a penalty of 15 yards to the offensive team. The woman nodded, an indulgent smile on her face. “Hunk Garrett is my boyfriend.”

And yeah, he could get used to saying that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! Comments and kudos mean the absolute world to me!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Hit me up on [ my tumblr](https://voltronhastakenovermylife.tumblr.com) if you want to give me prompts or just chat about Voltron <3


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